THEN11t0317

(if by any chance you missed the beginning of the greatest event of 2011, you can start reading it here, where the first lerrnstory starts)

silence. and silence. and after the silence. after the silence. a conundrum starts here because on the next paragraph a mention exists about the last paragraph, but now that i create in here a new paragraph, the next paragraph mentions the last paragraph before existing this precise paragraph, which was the last of this page (not this page, the page pointed in here). and this paragraph, which is not the last paragraph mentioned on the next paragraph, is now the paragraph that mentions the silence, evident silence created with the silent page not published on the last lerrnsthursday, which i am not sure it was lerrnsthursday, but thinking of it, all thursdays are lerrnsthursdays, all depends on how lerrnst is thursday, even if lerrnst is silent.
beyond the poetic moment of the last paragraph (youtch already know, it's not the last paragraph, but the paragraph before the last paragraph exists), youtch still want to know the reason why the key doesn’t work in the lock and youtch are right. if it wasn’t important, there was no reason to describe it, that’s what youtch think and that is what i think, i presented youtch the fact has an evidence and maybe that wasn’t that much. maybe even the key was still in the pocket, none of us knows right now why we didn’t told so, how many mojitos we have drunk before bringing two of them to drink in the company of the wife. and that number may be essential to the correctness of the lock with the key.
who doesn’t know either how many days have passed since joe was home the last time, that is a subject we easily would have obligation to know, i remind youtch that i have left this room an hour ago, what makes us consider the real problem is not the hour we left that counts, only in this case because the time between going out and going in was so short, it’s more important when was the last time i used this key on this door, that i recall it was last night, so or the key no longer is useful to this lock or the mojitos were many.
but if youtch don’t remember i am sure it was not more than one, and being her dancing as i already told youtch, also may have been no change of key, because if it was our wife she would not have opened the door now, she would have screamed inside what do you want and made an argument, whatever the subject, with the door in between.
so i let to your imagination other chances, for me was simply the card demagnetized, if i had said to youtch that the key was digital perhaps youtch already remembered this chance, but in life, and life, full of chances we are all, and we will more quickly go to another subject if youtch accept without further ramblings that was in fact magnetic the card and a mobile phone or other device simply contributed to the loss of data, and this rule is simpler than any key, a magnetic key without codes on a codified lock.
youtch, my friendx, youtch are sick. sorry, inner side, and suddenly i see i may offend youtch, but without reason because that's not my intention. i say we, i speak of joe and talking of joe i talk of me and of youtch, but i do not know if youtch somehow fit in this affirmation. so now youtch understand and youtch do not be offended when i tell youtch my friendx youtch are sick.
a few more remarks are made and most of them are erased.
i am one of the little things. i get lost in details that do not interest youtch, it seems i see youtch seem in a hurry, without patience, and i send youtch pictures of cats standing in the sun, at the feet of two guards with a mustache, waiting hours that turn into days, one day it will explode a bomb to make them feel useful and we are all going to have pity, but now they just kick a plastic bottle at the cat as if they wanted it to go away, that cat has earned their day and time when i looked for him and for them and all of us interact with the cat.
far away, looked down another man with a mustache when i looked to him, hoe in hand was rearranging the red flowers with white stripes that were illuminating the garden sprinkled of fresh sun as if the sun would ever be fresh, even less now that it makes me perspiring, and he, coveralls, composes those that make him the best gardener of the royal garden.
the days of small little things are mine. those that keep me with swollen feet to tread the nothing with colors of the heart of the cities.
and the neighbors, strangers in the window extend shameless pants and underwear, the ones that they use every day next to the ones they use every year, they also boast whiskers as if there were no women, or women have a mustache or hid themselves, or employed in its no-work while the whiskers extend through the parks and outdoor cafes.
youtch know, people go through us, touch and smell, enjoy the flavors, discover sensations, inebriate of the best contact of the city without realizing they changed reality. those who were invaded in their privacy, or rather those who opened their doors and sold their privacy, or rather those who otherwise agree with sympathy to welcome strangers in their life, also plunge into their memories and both parties enrich the joys and sorrows, mutual learning of life, people who pass by us enrich ourselves with their smiles or on their serious faces we can feel the questions, the best smile is the one of that girl who just happened to me offers with her eyes, i like the smile she uses to reward me, but it is the smile of the eyes that captivated me, i feel the city now, i forgot mine and now this is the one where i live, native here who dances and eats here with others of his kind, the woodwork, ceramics, carpets, full of colorful meanings, memories of the countries that were not mine and now they are, just because i have received two smiles, the one i received from the lips of a stranger but mostly what i got from the eyes of the same stranger.
people. people. me people. youtch people. we people. peoplex.

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